They had been down here for so. Long. The slow, everyday slog of simply walking through the never ending dungeon wore at Fird’s mind more than the literal wear and tear of Fird’s coat and hooves from wandering for so long. Fird had gotten lost on their first dungeon dive ever. They had been underprepared, and had no close friends on the surface that he had told before going down.

A few rooms down, a trap door had opened up, sending Fird falling deep into the dungeon. He had been down for weeks, maybe even months at this point. What few items he had brought with him had long since been used up and lost deeper in the dungeon only a few days in. In lieu of his supplies, he had been finding moss and dungeon plants to subsist on, and licking moisture from the walls when he was thirsty.

For ages now, the courser had been wandering, trying desperately to find a way out, every time he would find a path that seemed to go upwards, it would end up winding back down deeper into the depths.

Trails that lead up, trails that lead down, there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason. Nothing actually lead anywhere of any use.

Lost as ever, Fird emerged into a larger cavern. The ceiling soars over his head as he notices a small opening up a small, rocky hill. Fird takes his time, slowly picking his way up the treacherous slope, trying not to slip and fall considering he doesn’t have any medical supplies.

About halfway up though, the ground under their hooves starts to shudder and shake. They rear in fear until a large hand belonging to a golem reached up and loosely caught Fird up.

Fird pants and shivers, laying down on the broad palm, as he is raised up to the golem’s face. The great being hummed softly as it peered down at the shaking courser. Fird was suddenly very, VERY conscious of his dirty, stained fur, his chipped hooves, and various wounds in stages of bleeding and scabs. The craggy face seemed to soften a bit, as far as Fird could read a rock’s face, before gently bringing Fird back towards the ground.

“What? No! No no no! I need to find a way out!” Fird scrabbled to get up, his hooves scraping against the stone fingers as the golem placed him on the mossy ground the golem itself had been resting on. The golem shuffled with something Fird couldn’t see before turning back to the courser with a stone slab, a large sodden piece of moss on the slab, water. The giant fingers placed the offering down near Fird’s head where the courser could easily reach. Then they retreated again, Fird bent his head and began lapping up the water from the moss, unable to gorge himself due to the method of delivery.

He looked up at another noise, now seeing where the water had come from as there was a small trickle of water in a crag near the ceiling. Some scant plants also grew from the ledge, likely from the source of water. The golem was picking some of these plants and herbs. It turned back towards the injured courser, gently placing the food near Fird’s head again, this time on the opposite side from the water.

With great effort, Fird shifted his weight from one side to the other so that he could reach the food as well. Careful not to eat it all at once and make himself sick, Fird slowly ate the meal in front of him. 

The noise of the golem shifting around caused Fird to stop and look up. The great beast, upon noticing the attention, patted the moss bed, pointed at Fird, then pointed up at the door to the next set of unescapable rooms.

“You want me to… sleep?” 

The golem nodded gently.

“Well. I guess I can do that.” Fird carefully shifted into a more comfortable laying position, before lowering his head to the soft moss bed.

They glanced up through drooping eyelids at the golem, who was itself rearranging itself into a new sleeping position, it’s hand covering the tired courser to protect them from any disturbance during their slumber.